


Before the Sun Goes Down

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first words out of Jason's mouth are, “The idiot's going to be okay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Sun Goes Down

**Author's Note:**

> yozoraarashi asked for Dick/Tim, Sentinel and Guide.
> 
> I haven't seen _The Sentinel_ since it aired, so I gave it my best shot? Also, I pilfered the time dilation field from the Stargates, IDK.

The first words out of Jason's mouth are, “The idiot's going to be okay.”

“What? Jason, what happened?”

Bruce looks up at that, and Tim shakes his head.

They're on a business trip for Wayne Enterprises, touring offices around the country, and -

“Jason?”

There's a long pause, noises in the background. Jason thinking of how to word whatever he wants to say.

“When are you two coming back?” 

Bruce is already moving, taking his phone out to make the necessary calls and Jason - 

“He's fine,” Jason says, something in his voice grounding Tim. “Got that? The idiot's fine, stop freaking out.”

“I'm not - “

“Yeah, try the other one,” Jason says, and this.

“He's okay?”

Because.

Jason sighs.

“Yeah,” he answers, sounding exhausted. “Dick's fine.”

********

“Oh my God, what?” Tim blurts, when he finally sees Dick.

There's.

His _face_.

Bruce and Alfred are in with Dick, talking quietly, and Tim.

“Time dilation field,” Jason says, coming up beside him. “Jackass refused to shave it off until he could show you.”

“Why?” Tim asks weakly.

It looks like something died on his face.

“I know, right?” Jason asks, hands Tim his phone that's filled with what looks like pictures of Dick immediately post-rescue.

He looks worse, if possible.

Clothes dirty, ragged, hair shaggy and unkempt and that. That thing on his face. (Tim's not thinking about how much weight he'd lost, or how his smile doesn't sit quite right on his face. No.)

“Time dilation field?” Tim asks.

Barbara had filled them in on the basics on the way back to Gotham. Madman of the week with some kind of experimental device and Dick and Jason leading the charge, Dick getting caught in the backlash. (Living for a year if not more on the other side in the handful of hours it had taken the others to get him out, no one's really bothered with the math just yet.)

“Think of all the excitement you missed out on while you and Bruce were on that trip,” Jason says, nudges Tim with his elbow. “You'd look fucking hilarious with something like that on your face.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Tim says, covers his face with his hands and _breathes_ , because Dick is okay, he's okay.

********

Tim's not the first to pick up on it, but - 

“Dick?”

But Dick is staring straight ahead at nothing, head cocked to the side, a little frown on his face.

“Dick?” Tim tries again.

He was cleared by the doctors, told to take it easy, rest, and work on regaining the weight he'd lost. (Tim had quietly been taken aside and given the signs to look for, numbers to call if anything came up.)

“You don't hear that?” Dick asks, shaking himself out of the – whatever it was he was in. 

“It's.” Dick makes a face, shakes his head and offers Tim an uneven smile. “Leaky faucet.”

Tim.

“No,” Tim says, “but this is an old building, I'm not surprised.”

Dick.

“Yeah,” Dick says, rubs the back of his neck. Looks out the window, hand tightening around his coffee mug. “Not that weird, huh?”

Jason's noticed too, and there's no doubt in Tim's mind Bruce has caught Dick at it as well. (He's been doing things like this more and more lately.)

“Not so much, no,” Tim says, spreads the newspaper so Dick can see the crossword puzzle. “What's a nine letter word for hairy-winged insect?”

********

They're staking out a warehouse for Bruce, one he suspects might be the base of operations for a gang of gunrunners while he and Damian kick over an an anthill elsewhere. 

Three hours in and there's been nothing of note. 

“Quiet,” Dick murmurs, lowers his binoculars to give Tim a wry little smile. “Peaceful.”

Tim looks at him.

At Dick who insisted he was well enough to go back to this, was ready to hit the rooftops. (Both of them know what this is, because Bruce and years of wrangling Dick.)

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

Dick's smile turns true, just the tiniest bit. 

********

Things add up, over time.

They've all caught Dick spacing out over one thing or another, seen him try to cover for the lapses with lame jokes and poorer attempts at pretending he's not worried about them, and Tim.

He remembers, something like this, or reading about something like this in one of the online forums he'd been a member of when he was younger.

An anthropology student up in Washington state and his work centering around something called a Sentinel.

He'd been treated as something of a joke, Tim remembers.

When he starts his search, there's nothing left of what Tim remembers. Forum down, all related searches turning up nothing, but.

The internet never forgets.

It takes some digging, and Tim picks up the trail. Stumbles over an old article here, another one there, and discovers the fallout when the student – Sandburg – had had his work published.

Sits back and thinks, and thinks some more.

About Dick and the things he can't possible be hearing, or seeing. The fact that he's not eating the foods he used to love anymore.

All the little things that add up over time.

********

“I want to try something,” Tim says, when Dick laughs miserably and stares at the mug of coffee in his hands, nauseous look on his face.

“Tim - “

“Do you trust me?” 

And Dick.

Dick rubs a hand over his face. 

“Wow,” he says, laughs again, tired. “It has to be good if you're leading with something like that.”

Tim shrugs, sits down next to him. “Maybe.”

A pause, hesitation. “Do you?”

Tim wonders, sometimes, given everything that's happened to get them here. (Never asked before now, though, because you never ask a question you don't want to know the answer to.) 

Dick looks at him, fond, exasperated. “Of course I do,” he answers, with no hesitation at all.

********

“How did you even hear about this guy?” Dick asks, when Tim shows him what he's managed to find, piece together from what he'd been able to scrounge together.

“...you ever get curious?” Tim asks, wave a hand at Gotham. “Wonder why?”

Psychology and anthropology intersect, after all. 

Dick looks at him, and.

“Okay, fine,” Tim says, because that's only part of it. “It's like.”

Tim doesn't know how to explain this, so he does a quick Google search and shows Dick [the result that comes up](https://xkcd.com/214/).

Dick _looks_ at him.

“You asked,” Tim say, shrugs. “Now stop trying to distract me, we have work to do.”

********

It's all trial and error, even with what Tim's managed to find.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jason asks, voice quiet as he watches Dick navigate an obstacle course Tim's set up in the Batcave with a blindfold on.

“Science,” Tim says, winces when Dick runs into an obstacle. 

“Ow, what the - “

“Hey,” Jason calls out, ever helpful. “Watch out, there's a thing there.”

********

“Oh my God, what did you put in this?”

Tim blinks, takes a sip of the mug Dick's handing over to him. Bland, but for a little bit of spice, because it's water, and they're going to have to work on this a bit more, aren't they.

“Cinnamon.”

********

Crime never sleeps, or so it goes, and Bruce needs their help even when he seems to think he's okay, he's fine, he has this. (And those times when Damian follows a little too closely in Bruce's footsteps.)

“Ow,” Tim says, arm trapped by a wooden beam.

There's noise to his left somewhere, low, furious muttering that can't be anyone but Damian given the vehemence to it.

And, yes. Okay.

Tim may have, _may have_ , miscalculated.

In his defense, he hadn't been expecting these idiots to be hiding explosives in the walls when he set off that trap, but. 

Damian and the goons, and precious little choice.

“Imbecile,” Damian grumbles, pinned by some of the rubble, same as Tim. 

“You always say the sweetest things,” Tim says, leans his head back against what feels like a metal support. 

Damian hisses, pride hurt more than anything else, thankfully.

Tim is.

There's some pain going on in one of his legs, but it doesn't feel like anything's broken, so. 

“I had everything under control,” Damian says, spits out. “I didn't need your idea of help.”

“I'll remember that for next time,” Tim says, cocks his head when he hears - 

“Do you hear that?”

He can feel Damian glaring at him.

“There's nothing - “

But there is.

Faint, getting closer.

“I think,” Tim says, looks over to where the noise is coming from.

Scrape and grind of rubble being moved aside, low swearing.

“Robin? Red Robin?”

“I think the cavalry's here,” Tim says, smiles in Damian's general direction. “Better start thinking of how you're going to explain this to B.”

********

There's not much in the way of actual explanations.

Just.

Damian looking up at Bruce with a stubbornly defiant look on his face while Bruce looks down at Damian, quietly baffled by everything his kids choose to be.

The rest of them watching in fascinated silence.

“Oh, God,” Jason says, offers Tim the popcorn. “This is fucking hilarious. I mean, I knew there were two of them, but this. Wow.”

********

“Your trackers weren't working,” Dick says later.

There's a frown on his face.

“How did you find us?”

Because Damian had disappeared and it was sheer luck Tim had found him in time. And, yes, the resulting explosion, but it had been a big building, located in a quiet enough neighborhood. 

“This,” Dick says, taps Tim's chest, over his heart. “I could hear your heartbeat.”

Looks up at Tim, one corner of his mouth tugging up. “I guess this isn't so weird after all, huh?” 

Tim.

They have a long way to go yet, Tim knows. 

Dick's control is getting better, but there are times he focuses on something to the point he zones out. Tim can usually pull him out of them, but.

But Dick is looking at him, quiet sort of relief in his eyes, wonder, because this is working, he's getting his senses under control, can go into the field and not feel like a liability. (Can use this to help him when he's out there running across rooftops and swinging between buildings, fighting crime and keeping people safe.) 

“Not so much, no,” Tim says, feeling the same kind of relief, wonder, because this is something they can do, make work for them, and lets Dick pull him in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> :D?


End file.
